Shifts of Death and Love
by Nommy
Summary: Cloak & dagger genericness with sub-par romantic overtones.


_Yo', peeps! So, this is just a lil' one shot...I dunno', I kinda' wanna' do a full-scale fic with Oblivion and have Lucien Lachance & this character here, Angelika, as the central characters. What do you guys think? Meh, whatever the case anyway, safe to say that I'm now sorta', kinda' in ruvv with Lucien & his overly dramatic/smexy dulcet tones *spazzes&drools* Oh! & the next chapter of The Legend of Dovahkiin's coming soon, so yah...Enjoy! _

_~ Nommy =D_

Shifts of Death and Love

The walls were cracked and stained with time. Shafts of light gently cascaded down from the holes in the chapel's roof. Illuminated within the neglect was Mara's own faded reverence. Arms outstretched welcoming anyone who sought her love and acceptance, tears of painted stone rolled down the statue's lifeless cheeks. Sitting amongst the overturned pews and debris from the partially destroyed roof, Angelika sat and gazed up at the statue which once meant everything to the Lady of the house.

The sound of muffled footsteps approaching alerted the young Breton. Turning her head ever so slightly, her eyes downcast, Angelika uttered softly,

"This was my mother's chapel."

There was no response for a moment. Flicking her clear gaze up, Angelika got to her feet and rested her pale and delicate hands in the folds of her sky blue dress. Eyeing the intruder, Angelika gave him a small knowing smile,

"You are still alive then, Lucien?"

The Imperial's face was obscured by the heavy black hood he wore. His garb of the Dark Brotherhood was as unnerving as the assailant who wore them. Lucien Lachance smiled rather smugly from behind the velvet of his hood,

"As are you, my lady."

He observed coolly and smoothly made his way towards her. Angelika watched as the assassin's eyes silkily roamed the room, he was neither interested nor indifferent, he was just typical Lucien. Angelika noted that the Imperial had barely aged a day since the last time they had met three years ago in the marshlands of Black Marsh when he had saved her from bandits and witnessed her naïve soul of a girl die and her rebirth into the woman she was today. Lachance was staring at her now, her dark brown hair hung heavily from her head and tumbled down her back like a waterfall of the darkest brandy. Her skin was pale and sickly – but it suited her. The things that drew him in the most however, were her pale blue eyes which were staring back at him now.

The silence was not welcome for Lucien had things to do. The will of Sithis rested on his shoulders, yet he found that he couldn't move. He wasn't entirely ready to leave with only these paltry words exchanged with Angelika. Taking a step forward, Lucien pronounced gently,

"I'm glad that you are safe and well, Angelika…I tried for news of you for so long. I feared the Dread Lord had taken you for his self."

She smiled at and shook her head causing the curtain of her hair to shift like rich muslin,

"No, I am very much alive."

Releasing a breath and a small chuckle, Lucien nodded his head,

"Yes, Sithis be praised."

Suddenly her dark eyebrows twitched and she turned to gaze up at Mara's golden likeness,

"My mother worshipped her god through painted stone and songs of reverence…not slitting throats and killing officials. Who's to say which one is the right sort of veneration?"

Coming up alongside her, Lucien's eyes scaled the statue of Mara and his gaze rested on the face of the divine,

"What is writ, which is what we adhere to? That is how we worship. Whatever your god asks, commands?"

He turned his dark eyes on her and said in an undertone,

"What they command – we do."

Eyeing him, Angelika's lips parted, about to respond but she was cut off by the sound of hooves outside in the sprawling gardens of the manor. Like a flash, Lucien turned to her and gave her a lop-sided smile,

"I knew it was too bright for me today."

Taking her cold hand in his warm gloved one; he bored into her with his eyes and softly kissed her alabaster knuckles,

"Long life, Angelika."

Was all he said before slipping back into the shadows.


End file.
